Rage, Rage

"How are you feeling, mate?" asked Kakunaman with concern.

 

"Given my circumstances, I feel quite swell, my friend," replied s3c0ndh4nd weakly. "Have a seat."

 

Kakunaman did so. As he did, he handed s3c0ndh4nd a small pile of letters.

 

"From well-wishers." he explained quickly.

 

"Ah… read them to me, would you?"

 

Kakunaman read each and every letter, one by one. At the end, s3c0ndh4nd looked deeply moved.

 

"What do you want me to write back to them?" Asked Kakunaman, with a pen in his hand.

 

s3c0ndh4nd closed his eyes for a moment, deep in thought.

 

"Tell them… goodbye, and thank you." he said after a while.

 

"Don’t say that," Kakunaman told his friend. "You’ve still got lots of time."

 

"Kakunaman, my dearest friend," s3c0ndh4nd started. "You have seen men die hundreds, if not thousands of times. Do not pretend that you do not know what the process looks like."

 

"But-"

 

"I am far beyond the stages of anger or denial, my friend. I have come to accept my fate as it is." Even as he said this, a tear was forming in the corner of his eye. "Life has treated me well, and I expect that death shall treat me well too. Until then, let me enjoy what time I have left. Let us speak on this subject no further."

 

"Now you’re the one lying to me." replied Kakunaman with a faint smile on his face. "Yeah, I’ve seen hundreds of men die, but not a single one of them accepted their death unconditionally. Talk to me, say whatever you have left to say."

 

"A sermon, you mean?" asked s3c0ndh4nd, trying to smile back.

 

"Hey, I hope that’s not a stab at me!" Kakunaman looked offended. "I’m proud of my sermon! Too bad both copies of it have been destroyed or lost.."

 

"I was not insulting you, my friend. I do not have the charisma required to deliver such a sermon anyhow."

 

Kakunaman dismissed s3c0ndh4nd’s comment with a wave of his hand. "You could do it. Anyone can do it. Isn’t that what you’re always telling your mates about writing? It’s the same thing."

 

"Maybe I should have-" He looked up suddenly. "Kakunaman, where is the apostle? I haven’t seen her since we last spoke."

 

Kakunaman didn’t respond, and looked at the ground.

 

"So, she left." said s3c0ndh4nd flatly. "Did she leave a note, or anything explaining her reasoning?"

 

"She told me that you had changed and that she was afraid of what you were becoming. That’s all."

 

"Bah…" s3c0ndh4nd looked saddened. "So she is entirely unaware of my condition then…"

 

"Do you want me to send her a letter?" Kakunaman asked.

 

s3c0ndh4nd considered this for a moment before answering. "No," he said finally. "That would make her feel guilty, and I do not want to do that. Leave it be."

 

 

 

There was silence in the room for a minute.

 

 

 

Then s3c0ndh4nd spoke again.

 

"Kakunaman, what will you do when I am gone?"

 

"Huh?"

 

"Will you stay at the temple, will you leave, will you stay with The Union..?"

 

"I’ve never really been involved with the workings of The Union, and you’ve got a successor to take care of that for you, so-"

 

s3c0ndh4nd cut him off. "My successor will not be the Fourth Hero of The Union. Look what happened to me. It will be even worse for him. To force him into The Union would be to sentence him to death. I will not do this. If he wants to join The Union, I will leave that door open for him, but unless he is a madman, he will decline my offer. As for the temple, I will give both you and him joint ownership of it. You can inhabit it, sell it, burn it to the ground, abandon it, or whatever else you want. It is your choice. With that information, I ask you again. What will you do?"

 

"I’ll go wherever he goes, I guess. Unless he turns out to be a total n00b, in which case I’ll leave and go off on my own for a while."

 

"I see." responded s3c0ndh4nd. "That is reassuring…"

 

 

 

Again, silence took over the room.

 

 

 

Minutes later, s3c0ndh4nd spoke.

 

"What day is it today?" he asked, looking confused.

 

"November 5th." replied Kakunaman.

 

"Oh dear." said s3c0ndh4nd with a grimace. "How terribly ironic. It was you who created this holiday, wasn’t it?

 

"Yes, comrade, it was me." answered Kakunaman. "Way back on November 5th, 2003.

 

"Why did you create it?" asked s3c0ndh4nd.

 

"Ah… I remember it as if it were yesterday…" said Kakunaman with a reminiscent smile. "It was four years ago today that I celebrated the first Commencement Day. I created it because I saw tons of people out there who were doing nothing. These people had dreams, but they were sitting on their asses instead of taking action and fulfilling them. Commencement Day, as you know, is a holiday where you’re reminded that life doesn’t last forever, and that you need to start fulfilling your dreams now."

 

s3c0ndh4nd looked at Kakunaman, and then at the ground.

 

"Yes, my friend. How terribly, terribly ironic."

 

 

 

Yet again, the room fell silent.

 

 

 

s3c0ndh4nd then had something else to tell his friend.

 

"You know what I regret?" he asked.

 

"I do, but you’ll tell me again anyways, won’t you?"

 

s3c0ndh4nd smiled weakly. "I regret that entire Wrigley Field incident. I simply cannot believe how stupid I was then. I overreacted and punched one of my most loyal friends in the face, and then I did something even worse. I was afraid of chastisement, and so I tried to justify my action. I claimed that his light slap was provocation enough for me to punch him. The final result was that instead of helping my friend, who was obviously in great pain, I insulted him and made things worse. I asked for his forgiveness once, but I never tried again. He refuses to even acknowledge my existence anymore, making speaking to him impossible. I cannot say that I blame him. I wouldn’t forgive myself for what I did. It was an unforgivable act. Truly though, I tell you… It has been over six months, and not a single day has gone by that I do not regret what I did. It has eaten me from the inside, like a parasite. It follows me around in the back of mind whenever I am awake, and when I sleep, it haunts my dreams. Now it is too late for me to seek any kind of peace with Kid…" At this point, s3c0ndh4nd broke down and began to weep. "I… I meant no harm…"

 

Kakunaman waited for s3c0ndh4nd to calm down before speaking.

 

"You know, you should really look on the positive side of life. You’d regret a lot less if you did, and you’d be happier. It’s just like you say: It’s all a matter of perspective. Well, you should follow your own advice. Look at life from a postive point of view, and you’ll be in a positive mood. It’s easy."

 

s3c0ndh4nd looked at his friend for a moment, before closing his eyes. "You know… I have always thought of you as a good man."

 

Kakunaman noticed that s3c0ndh4nd’s voice had become very weak. His brief speech had taken a lot out of him.

 

"I have always thought of you as a wise man…" he said softly. "And you know what they say about wise men…"

 

"Wise men?" s3c0ndh4nd looked confused for a moment, but then his eyes lit up briefly. "Yes… yes I do." his voice was barely a whisper now. "You know… he was always my favourite."

 

"I know, s3c0ndh4nd, I know."

 

"Could you… read it to me? Just… once?" s3c0ndh4nd seemed to be using all of his energy now just to speak. Tears were beginning to spout from his eyes.

 

"I would be happy to…" Kakunaman himself could barely keep from breaking down. He began to recite:

 

"Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night."

Using all of his remaining strength, s3c0ndhand completed the poem.

"Rage… rage against the dying of the light." he whispered, and slowly shut his eyes. A tear rolled down his cheek.

"My God, Kakunaman… After two years… this is all I’ve done…"

 

The room fell silent once again, but this time there was no one to break the silence.

Everlasting

 Tonight, I give you this: It is a summary of everything that The Union has stood for throughout these years. May it serve you well, my friends.

 

 

The Ten Principles of The Union

 

One: Do not use any drugs which alter your mental state.

 

This includes tobacco, alcohol, marijuana, and caffiene, but does not include painkillers or fever reducers.

 

Two: Do not participate in pre-marital sexual activity.

 

This includes all forms of sexual interaction.

 

Three: Respect the elderly.

 

They have greater experience in the ways of the world than you.

 

Four: Respect the young.

 

You were in their position once, and they will one day be where you are now.

 

 Five: Do not seek employment prior to the age of eighteen.

 

If you are forced or pressured into employment, this rule does not apply.

 

Six: Do not use the power of peer pressure to manipulate your allies.

 

Seven: Strive to be the best at whatever it is that you do, but do not let failure deter you.

 

Eight: Do not give your word to someone unless you are absolutely certain that you can keep it.

 

Your word is your bond. You have nothing else.

 

Nine: Do not compromise your morals for any personal price.

 

This does not apply to situations where others will be hurt if you maintain your morals.

 

Ten: Analyze everything, take nothing for granted, and above all, think.

 

 

 

 

My friends, soon must end the work that the ides of March begun three years prior.

Whether we shall meet again, I know not.

Therefore, our everlasting farewell take:

 Forever, and forever, farewell, my friends.

If we do meet again, why, we shall smile.

If not, why then, this parting was well made.

All Saints’ Eve/All Saints’ Day

I have always passionately hated the accursed holiday that is All Saint’s Eve.

 

Every year I have dreaded its arrival. Every year I have hoped and prayed that the next year would be different. Every year I have been let down.

 

This year though… Something was different. I was positively giddy yesterday. Jolly, even. Some of the costumes that I saw this year have lessened my hatred slightly. Overall, it was a good day.

 

 

 

 

Ah, something else of importance.

 

Today, a fight broke out in one of the corridors between several younger students. One of the combatants was the very same lad who had tripped the other boy a few days ago, and the other I did not know. The one who had tripped the boy was punched in the face early in the fight, and was clearly not capable of fighting back. Just then, someone my age stepped in and broke the fight apart. He held the aggressor back while protecting the injured boy.

 

Normally, this would have instilled great hope in me.

 

However, the aggressor then yelled at the peacemaker: "Whoa, look at this kid! He thinks he runs the show!", and another few older boys aimed a few insults at the peacemaker as well.

 

Frankly, I do not know what to make of this situation. Perhaps one of you can help me.

 

 

A New Style of Writing

Writing a will is fun if you do it early enough in life.

 

There is a little rush associating with remembering what people have done for you in the past, and what you wish to give them in return for their kindness. There is also a little rush associated with cutting people out of your will, admittedly.

 

It is all fun and games for those who are very unlikely to die in the near future.

 

 

For me, however, there is a certain sense of urgency required in finishing this piece of writing.

 

Fortunately, I do not have many possessions. I have my clothing, this temple, my favourite pen, and countless old poems which were never published on this space, and which are embarassing to me.

 

Unfortunately, I do not know how to evenly parcel these out amongst my friends. This is as tough a decision as I have ever had to make.

 

Hurrah, more things to worry about.

 

Bah.

There are multiple ways of becoming immortal, my friends.

 

You could throw a brick at someone immortal, for starters. I personally don’t like that method.

 

Then there’s the athletic route, which relies a lot on genetics and natural skill. This route isn’t for me either.

 

 

 

Then, there’s art.

 

Actors, musicians, writers, and visual artists.

 

 

Me? Well, I am a writer. I quite enjoy writing, and yet… sometimes I regret that I became a writer.

 

Why? Two reasons.

 

The first is that writing seems to be the least respected of the arts.

The second is that I could have done more.

 

You see, we exhalt the actors above all else, and pay them millions to show off their talents for us.

The musicians are also well loved, though they are slightly lower than the actors.

 

And then we have the writers and visual artists. Seldom do we get glory. Aside from Mrs. Rowling and a select few others, most of us are unheard of until after we die. This is nice and all, but I would much rather know of how successful I’ve been BEFORE I die.

 

 

 

What gets to me is that I could have done more. I don’t have that charisma required to be a musician, but…

 

I could have been an actor. I could have been a damned good one too. I tried it once, and performed very well. I never tried it again. Why? I had no one there to support me. No supportive parents, no supportive friends, no one. So I just let that aspiration slip. This was a bad decision, but I can’t fix it. It’s too late for me, my life is nearly over.

 

But even if it wasn’t… Even if I still had another 20 years, it’s still too late.

 

You need to start acting before you’re a year old to get good in most cases. The only way for that to happen is through parents. You need to be lucky. I wasn’t.

 

I’m just too fucking old.

 

 

 

My Problem

As far as I can tell, this has been my problem:

 

I have expected too much from life. A very simple problem with a very simple cause.

 

The bottom line is this: The human mind has no limit. The human flesh does. Recognize that limit, my friends…

 

 

 

Success

Nature threw everything it could at me today. Rain, cold weather, muddy conditions, and a huge hill.

 

Yet, somehow, I prevailed. That bloody hill could not defeat me this day. It was able to hinder me, yes. It was able to exhaust me, yes. But, it did not defeat me.

 

It is interesting how all those scalar factors (time, speed, distance, and temperature) seem to melt away into insignificance over the course of a 7km race. You don’t know how long you’ve been running, or how fast you’re going, or how far you’ve gone, or how cold it is, because you can’t feel it anymore. Running is by far the best way to empty one’s mind, though not the easiest in terms of effort required.

 

All in all, things went well.

 

Since only the top four runners from each team have their scores counted, my performance was inconsequential to our team’s overall score. Nonetheless, the team as a whole performed admirably. We won in all three divisions that we competed in, and thus, winning the overall boys title. This was our fourth straight CISAA title (out of the four years that we’ve competed for that particular title, essentially making us undefeated as of yet), and our twenty-ninth straight league championship. But enough about our glorious victories, lest I begin to sound like Kakunaman.

 

Also of note is that today I finished one spot ahead of the same person who beat me by one spot last time. Another score settled.

 

T’was a good day for myself, methinks.

 

Two Things to Note

Just two little tidbits that I’d like to share with you all today.

 

Firstly, I saw something today that rather disturbed me.

 

In one of the hallways in my school, two of the younger students were horsing around. Chasing each other, stealing each others’ stuff, etc. You know how boys are.

 

Now, one of the two kids stuck his leg out in an attempt to trip the other as he passed by, and his attempt was successful, albeit a little more successful than he probably intended to be. The other boy fell to the ground and landed hard on his left knee.

 

It became clear within seconds that the boy was injured.

 

Immediately, and I mean immediately, the injured boy was surrounded by both friends of his age (including the one who had tripped him) and other concerned boys who happened to witness the incident. They all asked him if he was okay, and offered help in the form of getting ice, a drink of water, or a hand to help the injured boy get up.

 

Interestingly enough, a group of older gentlemen approached the injured boy as well. They, however, did not offer help of any kind. Instead, they mocked him. "Back up," said one. "Give him room to cry. He’s gonna have a good cry now."

 

 

The age difference between the older gentlemen and the younger boys was only about three years, and yet the reactions of the two groups were polar opposites. Terrible, terrible thing to watch.

 

Yes, I did simply watch rather than offer help because it seemed redundant to be the sixth person to go fetch ice. In hindsight, perhaps I should have offered more help. Alas…

 

 

 

The second tidbit is more of a personal matter.

 

Earlier in September, I ran my first cross country race. I felt great for about the first half of the 7km race. Then, I looked up, and saw it. Mount Trinity. It was a daunting hill climb to say the least. I felt so terrible going up it that I couldn’t enjoy the relatively easy downhill section which followed. About a kilometre after the hill, I developed a side stitch, and that was it for me. I was forced to walk for two kilometres (including a second climb of that dreaded hill) before summoning the strength to run the last 800 metres. All in all, it was not an enjoyable day.

 

Tomorrow, I return to that same God-forsaken place for my final race. The weather report calls for 11 Degrees, and rain. Not the best conditions at all. 

 

This time, however, it’s personal. I refuse to let that damned piece of earth get the better of me twice. Mount Trinity is a cruel bitch, to be sure, but not undefeatable. Sick or not, this is something that I have to do in order to prove something to myself. Being my last race, I’m giving this one everything I’ve got. Wish me luck.

 

Change

People change. It happens. Between the ages of 10 and 18, the rate at which we change is ridiculous. Within these few years, our moral values and aspirations change countless times. You might start off at six years old wanting to be an N.B.A. superstar, and then later on, your ideals might change, and you might want to be a video game designer, and then a teacher, and then an actor, and then a writer, and then a motivational speaker.

 

Something to keep in mind: Even the six year old future N.B.A. star knows what he wants out of his life.

 

Look at this list:

 

N.B.A. player, video game designer, teacher, actor, writer, motivational speaker.

 

All those careers are different, and yet they bear one thing in common: All of those careers involve influencing people in some way, and quite a few of them have fame associated with them.

 

Is this coincidence? I think not. The way that the mind of a child works is fascinating.

 

 

 

Not only do our aspirations change, but our morals do too.

 

For example, I don’t know of any six year old who envisions himself or herself smoking in ten years. But, as we all know, a fair amount of sixteen year olds do smoke.

 

The question, therefore, is "What happened?"

 

The answer is, of course, that morals change over time. Not only morals, but personalities, likes and dislikes, hobbies, and many other things about us change with time. Look at me, for example. I went from writing Old Entries to writing poetry to writing reflections in two years.

 

This all ties in to love.

 

How does love die? The people involved in love change, and so the relationship is changed. What once was love is no longer love. That is why we have divorces. Almost always, the two individuals getting married do love each other. The problem is that once the two live together, they will be spending much more time together. They will be seeing each others’ imperfections and vices far more frequently than they are used to, and so problems and pain occur.

 

 

The bottom line is this: Everyone that you know will change, including yourself, and so your relationships with these people will change. The first rule of nature is as such: Adapt, or become extinct.

 

If your relationships cannot adapt to the ever-changing situations in your life, those relationships will become extinct.

 

 

The Wedding

My friends, if you have the means, I highly recommend attending the wedding of one of your former teachers. There are a few reasons for this.

 

Firstly, though I do not endorse their actions, seeing drunken teachers is rather hilarious, I’ll admit. Seeing drunken teachers dance is more so.

 

You see, at a non-school related event, your former teachers may just look upon you as equal. They have no authority over you anymore, and so there is no point in acting superior. You would be surprised at the things you can learn, given the right circumstances.

 

 

 

Another thing: Weddings in which you only know the groom/bride and one or two other people are great. One night friendships are quite fun. Yesterday I had the great pleasure of meeting with Annys(I think) and Steve, a middle-aged couple. Incredibly friendly people, if a little intimidating at first.

 

 

I also had the unexpected opportunity of correcting relations between myself and one of my greatest rivals. Her and myself have been rivals for a few years now, and I did posess a little bit of hatred for her, I must admit.

 

I really should have met her and taken the time to speak to her before. It turns out that she is not only intelligent, but humble and friendly as well.

 

One less enemy to worry about. It is a nice feeling. Enjoy your day.